


Stacked Against You

by siempreniall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, College AU, Hand Jobs, M/M, Pining Harry, Pining Niall, Public Sex, also, frat niall, lots of pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 20:45:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1913235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siempreniall/pseuds/siempreniall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall hates the library. All of the computers are always taken, the stacks make him feel claustrophobic, and his short attention span has never given itself well to studying anyways. The cute boy at the information desk makes it all worth it, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stacked Against You

**Author's Note:**

> Small warning that I feel obliged to make for a reference to a death? It's small and has nothing to do with either of the main characters.

Harry started working at the university’s library a little over two months ago. Which also happens to be exactly when Niall started studying there, as opposed to the frat house. It’s not like it’s all because of the curls and the green eyes and the long legs and the tattoos but… like, yeah, it is. He works from 2-6 on Tuesdays and Thursdays at the Knowledge Commons information desk and 10-4 on Saturdays at the checkout station by the reading room. Niall _might_ feel a little bit creepy for figuring that out, but it’s not like he stalks the kid so no harm done. And it’s not like he stays the whole time Harry is there, either. Mostly because more than two hours of studying all at one time quite literally turns his brain to jelly. It’s just easier to study when your eyes can take a break to stare longingly at someone so fucking gorgeous.

So three times a week Niall slots into a desk closest to wherever Harry is stationed that day. Even if he has to hover over someone when the library’s too full, he’ll get his spot. His professors have definitely noticed, too. It seems that when you actually try to read a book not on a table covered in week-old beer stains or surrounded by fifteen of your frattiest bro friends you actually start to learn a few things. He might even make Dean’s List this semester, and his mother might actually faint.

That’s all great and everything; Niall’s life is moving in a good direction, whatever. It’s just that he and Harry have never really, how do you put it, “interacted”. Sure, Niall’s asked the kid a few questions, but he doesn’t really think “what section are the sociology books in” and “where’s the closest bathroom” really count as pickup lines. He doesn’t even know how to get himself out of this funk because he’s never had this problem before. Even if his success rate isn’t 100%, Niall’s known around the Beta house as being the smoothest with the ladies, and lately the men. He always has something to say, a compliment to drop or a line to use that makes some sort of effect. This dry spell, this unconfident streak that he’s got going for him in the middle of the campus library, is new territory. And it fucking sucks.

Niall drags himself into the library on a Saturday afternoon with his backpack slung across his shoulder and a travel mug of coffee that he might’ve spiked with some whiskey on his way through the frat kitchen. The good stuff usually clears his mind and he’s going to need it if he’s gonna get this econ essay done by Sunday night. Not to mention Harry just so happens to pick this day to wear one of those ridiculously snug sweaters of his, and Niall’s having a hard time focusing on international trade theory when all he wants to do is rip the forest green pullover right off of Harry’s fit body. Or something like that.

He tries to talk to the kid at least once a visit, flexing his muscles and popping a breath mint into his mouth before going over to his work station.

“Hey, can I ask a question?” Niall asks, though it’s not like Harry’s ever told him he couldn’t.

Harry smiles, “I think you just did, actually,”

“Heh, sorry. Duh. Anyways, this book says it’s in S3A.P.1050.1240 blah blah blah. Um, where is that?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s in the stacks. Have you ever been there?”

It should be embarrassing because he’s a junior, but…

“No, um, not really,”

“That’s no problem,” Harry says kindly, grabbing a map from under the desk, “You want to be on the floor 3A of the stacks, so basically you’ll go through the doors by the front desk and walk into the stacks. Walk a little further down this corridor and you’ll get to a really small staircase, and just go up until you hit floor 3A, it’s not too far up. Are you following?”

Niall isn’t really, he’s more been staring at the size of Harry’s hand, holding onto the coffee cup, and the way his hair curls around his ear. He lies.

“Yeah, I think I’m getting it. Keep going,”

“Then you’re going to want to go to section P, which is at the West end of the stacks, to the right of how you’ll be situated when you leave the stairs. It’s all the way down at the end. Then look at the end of the shelves for the one that would include 1050, and just look for the book you need,

“Thanks, I should be able to get it now!” Niall says, and he tries to pull off the bedroom eyes he’s used on the people he’s been able to pull before. He doesn’t know if it works, but Harry seems to lean a little closer to him so it honestly can’t be hurting.

“So you’re saying you’ve never been to the stacks before?” Harry asks.

“No, I’ve usually avoided it because they’re so _creepy_ ,”

Harry stuffs the map back into the desk and turns back to the computer screen, “I’m not really surprised you said that, actually,”

“Oh, really?” Niall asks, intrigued, “And why is that?”

“Haven’t you heard of the murder that happened in the 70’s?”

“Wait, shit, really?”

“Yeah, and some people say it’s haunted, then,”

Niall wonders idly if he can feign fear and ask Harry to accompany him, when Harry comes up with an even better idea. One that will make him seem less like a scaredy cat.

“If you want, you know, I can take you into the stacks after they close. Show you how creepy they can _really_ be,”

“That would be… awesome,” Niall says, his jaw going slack in disbelief.

“Here, give me your hand,” Harry commands, Niall obliging, “This is my number. There’s a side door on the west side that says it’s emergency exit only. I’ll meet you there at 2 o’clock in the morning sharp. Don’t worry, it’s not really alarmed, and I’ll let you and show you around. If anything goes wrong, call me. Deal?”

Niall can barely believe his luck, tucking his hand into his sweatshirt pocket to keep it safe.

“Deal,”

He’s about to turn and go back to his spot, where he’ll promptly leave because there is no way in _hell_ he’s getting any work done with this on his mind, when he remembers something.

“Wait!” he whispers, turning around to jog back to Harry’s desk. Harry’s still there, of course.

“My name’s Niall, I never said, but that’s what it is,”

Harry nods, “M’ Harry,”

Which, of course Niall has known since the first time he saw him sitting at that desk in his ridiculously tight V-neck, but Harry doesn’t have to know that.

“Right, see you then, Harry,” Niall says, finally. Harry sends him off with a mock salute, and Niall practically runs back to his house, all notions of finding that book lost and gone.

**

It’s chilly by the time two comes around. Niall left his brothers wondering why his usual party-happy self was refusing to go out with them, instead choosing to sit at home until ass o’clock in the morning. He’s kept it a secret half because it’s nice to have something to keep all to himself in a house where everything is shared from gossip to food, and half because he’s scared that he’s going to show up at the library and go on a very G-rated ghost tour. He doesn’t know if he’d be able to live down the embarrassment.

Either way, he ends up at the side door three minutes early, and it opens at two (on the dot) with Harry’s smiling face right there.

“Glad to see you showed up,” Harry says before stepping aside so Niall can get in. He’s changed since earlier in the day, into a black, long-sleeved shirt. It hangs off his collarbones nicely, and it takes a lot of effort for Niall not to stare.

“Would’ve been a git to miss a personal tour,”

“Exactly,” Harry smiles, “Right this way then,”

Niall truly has never been to this part of the library; usually he sticks to the more public areas, the large, open rooms with tons of people in them as opposed to the solitary, claustrophobic maze he’s currently found himself in. On second thought maybe he should’ve warned Harry about his issues with cramped spaces. He can’t turn back now, though, so instead he focuses on the stretch of Harry’s jeans rather than the impending feeling of doom that impedes upon them as they hurry through the dimly-lit space.

Harry finally finds the staircase that he must’ve been looking for all along, and it takes them eight turns to finally go up three floors, which makes absolutely no sense to him, but he says nothing.

“Is this it, then?” Niall asks as they finally stop in between two rows of books on the top floor, “Is this where that murder happened or whatever?”

It doesn’t feel particularly spooky. There’s not even an odd draft or intermittent bangs coming from the heating system. In fact, the ceiling seems to have risen a few centimeters and Niall finally feels like he can breathe.

To his surprise, Harry shakes his head.

“Nope, that happened in the basement,”

Niall looks around, to see what he’s missing. Maybe there’s a plaque commemorating yet _another_ student death that he’s never heard of either. What he fails to notice is Harry crowding him closer, and when he finally comes to, he’s forced to take a step back to avoid Harry running into him, until finally his back hits the shelves and he’s got no place to go.

The only thing running through Niall’s mind is a stupid question, and it really is stupid considering he pretty much knows the answer, but his mind is clouded so he asks anyways.

“Then why are we up here?”

“Because the security guard’s rounds don’t start up here for another hour,”

And then he’s leaning in all the way, kissing him like they’re somewhere actually deserving of it.

Niall’s hands immediately find Harry’s waist, drawing him in until they’re flush together, the easy slide of their lips matching the way their bodies move together. All the buildup, all the anticipation that’s been building in Niall’s mind since he first ever thought of Harry stupid, big mouth on his, is gone. In its place is the sort of nervous energy that has Niall moaning at the slightest brush against his fly, curling his tongue around Harry’s with an unprecedented eagerness, fumbling his hands at Harry’s sides trying to grasp onto _something_. Niall reaches up to cup Harry’s face, to tilt him into whatever kiss Niall wants, because goddamn does he want a lot.

Finally, Harry breaks away to pant into his neck. They’re a sight to see, for sure. Sweaty and gasping with their clothes all bunched up in awkward places, stuck next to books about child psychology. If Niall wasn’t so turned on he’d laugh. He’s actually so turned on he _might_ laugh, because it’s some awkward habit he picked up as a teenager that never truly left him. He doesn’t have enough time to muck everything up, though, because he feels Harry’s hand travel down his body until it’s finally at the hard line of his dick, giving it a firm stroke.

Niall whimpers as his head falls back to thump against the books there, knocking a few to the side. He couldn’t care less, what with Harry’s mouth starting to move against his neck. Pressing small pecks to his heated skin and then turning to run his teeth over his shoulders, light enough to not leave a mark but hard enough to send shivers down his spine.

“Is this what you think about when you sneak glances at me?” Harry whispers suddenly, and Niall chances a peak down to see him staring back with a mischievous grin planted across his face, “Do you imagine me leading you away to some dark corner to get you off?”

Niall’s certainly never thought that Harry’s caught on to all of this, but it only eggs him on more to know that Harry’s been thinking about him as much as he’s been thinking about Harry.

“How about when you’re reading at the desks, leaning back with your legs spread wide?”

He starts moving down Niall’s body, stopping every inch or so to nip at Niall’s clothes, which seem so heavy and annoying now that he could just have them not be there.

“Are you imagining me between your legs? Sucking you off where everyone can see? So they can see how hard you are, just from me?”

Niall groans at that, because _no_ he’s actually never thought of that, but he’s been wasting his time not.

Finally Harry ends up on his knees, nuzzling against Niall’s hard-on, but not giving it nearly enough attention that Niall feels he’s nearly begging for.

“That’s what I think about,” Harry says so lowly that Niall almost misses it over the sound of blood rushing through his ears, “I sit at my desk and every time you come over to ask a question I try and find a way to hit on you, but all you do is return to your desk and eat a fucking muffin,”

And, okay, Niall has to laugh at that.

“Fuck, come on, bro, you’re killing the mood,”

He looks down to see Harry laughing up at him, his dimple even cuter when he’s kneeling at dick height.

“Sorry. Point is, I’ve been trying to get you alone for weeks, and I’ve been dying to blow you, if you wouldn’t mind,”

“Please,” is all Niall says before Harry’s undoing his zip, getting his trousers down to his knees, and finally letting his dick out from where it’s been unfairly trapped in his trousers, waiting for someone to finally pay it some good attention. Harry stops talking quickly, finally saying his peace, before he presses a small kiss to the tip and takes Niall all the way in.

It takes him by surprise at first; he sputters to balance himself by holding onto the shelves behind his back. But soon Niall finds himself melting into the swirl of Harry’s tongue and the absolutely obscene sounds coming from his mouth. Harry’s hand moves from its place grasping Niall’s thigh, skimming over the sensitive skin there, around the back until it’s resting between Niall’s legs and _oh_.

“Fuck!” Niall nearly yells as one of his knees tries to give out. It’s his good one too, fucking bastard.

It’s just that he’s _sensitive_ there, and he wasn’t quite expecting Harry to do that, like, at all.

Harry pulls off, the tip of Niall’s dick resting against his small pout as he raises his eyebrows.

“Fucking… do that again. Just tell me next time,”

Harry smiles and goes back to tearing Niall apart, piece by piece. He slowly takes Niall back in, circling his hole with one finger at the same time. They haven’t got any slick so Niall’s ecstatic he’s not pushing any further; he left horrible dry fingerings back in high school.

Niall’s hands make their way to the back of Harry’s head, enough to make it feel like his has some control over this impossible situation, but lax to the point where Harry won’t feel rushed towards anything he doesn’t want. Harry pops off again, but just long enough to get in a few words.

“I like it like that,” he says before going back, and Niall doesn’t really need to be told twice.

He rocks his hips easily into Harry’s mouth, his throat opening up so nicely for him. Harry doesn’t even gag, which fucking blows Niall’s mind. He starts getting the twisty feeling in his gut too soon, though, and he’s about to slow down before Harry pushes a finger in. Just a little bit, not enough to hurt, but definitely enough to make him come before Niall even gets a chance to shout off a warning.

“Jesus Christ, Harry!” Niall says, possibly a bit too loudly, but wholly necessary all the same.

Harry, for his part, just moves his hand to fist the rest of Niall’s dick where his mouth can’t reach, working him through his orgasm and swallowing everything he’s given until Niall’s a writhing, whining mess. Still panting against the library shelves.

“You’ve been hiding that behind the desk all this time?” he says as Harry gathers himself and gets to his feet.

“Been saving it just for you,” he quips back, before hugging him around the shoulders and pulling them together for another kiss.

Niall’s gone all soft and pliable and lazy now that he’s come, but he still reaches down between them and gets at Harry’s fly. He zips it down easy enough, bunching Harry’s jeans and briefs so that he can get a hand on him. Harry can’t keep up with the kissing after that, resolving instead to just hiding his face in the crook of Niall’s neck and trying his best to keep quiet, though Niall’s sure no one can hear them.

“Is this what you think about?” Niall whispers directly into his ear. He’s never been one for much dirty talk, but hell if Harry hasn’t brought it out of him. “When you’re watching me do you think about sucking me off? How you would just get hard just from being on your knees for me?”

Harry is ridiculously hard for how little attention anyone’s been paying his dick. Niall’s hand is dry and it must be at least kinda painful for how fast he’s moving it, but Harry says nothing and just chooses to hug Niall closer around his shoulders.

“’Ve wanted you so fucking bad,” Harry admits lowly as Niall turns to nip at Harry’s ear, only allowing a few more strokes before Harry comes in silence, biting down on Niall’s shoulder.

They wait a few more seconds as Niall strokes Harry through the ends of his orgasm and back, and they’ve finally got to a point of conclusion where they’ve both come and they’re giggling when the sound of a door opening ricochets through the room.

Niall’s eyes fly open, “What the fuck?” he whisper yells, pulling his pants back up. It’s one thing to be caught trespassing on school property, and another thing altogether to be caught with his pants down.

He’s still zipping up when Harry takes him by the hand and starts running as silently as they can through the stacks. It sounds as if whoever’s in the room is on the opposite side, but Niall’s taking no chances with this. Finally they reach a door and Harry swipes a card to get them through. They stumble through in total darkness as Harry reaches behind him to close the door and pull the shade.

He starts to laugh just for a second before he’s pulling Niall down on the ground again and pressing their bodies together, as if they both hadn’t just come five minutes before. Niall never had imagined actually pushing Harry away, but none of the rest of the night had ever been in his fantasies either.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Niall stops him, pushing at Harry’s chest until he’s forced to come up for air, “How do you know we’re actually safe in here?”

“Oh the security guys won’t come in here, we’re fine,”

“That’s what you said last time, and we almost just got caught!”

Niall can hear the shit-eating grin on Harry’s face even in the darkness, even before he starts speaking.

“Yeah, but this time I’m not lying,”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Jes for reading my things and responding in all caps, as always.


End file.
